


Three Cheers For...WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY CLOTHES?

by laudanum_cafe



Series: The True Lives of the Fabulous Terror Twins [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Terror Twins, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 20:12:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7655062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laudanum_cafe/pseuds/laudanum_cafe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Shut the fuck up, get up, pack your shit and let's go. And if you guys ever steal my clothes again I'm setting all your shit on fire while summoning Satan back to Earth to take you two back to hell where you belong."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Cheers For...WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY CLOTHES?

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to base a number of occurrences in this story on a few things that happened when my band last performed in Jacksonville and on a couple of things that were done with my own Terror Twin.

It's been well over a year since Pete and Patrick first met, a few months past the release of Take This To Your Grave, three weeks into their tour and a few things have become abundantly clear about the pair:

Pete and Patrick are nearly inseparable and choose to spend as much free time together as possible.  
Interacting with them individually is rare but in the off chance you get to see them without the other, Patrick’s personality can best be described as shy, polite and anxious; while Pete is abrasive, brooding and stand-offish.  
Interacting with them as a pair, they turn into a single minded individual full of laughter, pranks and insanity.  
They require proper adult supervision at all times and have the combined mental and emotional maturity of a 13 year old.

The band was currently driving down I-95 South towards the Florida state line. They were heading towards Jacksonville Florida for their very first Florida date. They were slated to play a pretty huge local venue with equally huge local band Analysis. Jacksonville wasn't exactly known for their huge pop punk scene but it was accepting of live bands in general.

At the moment, Andy was at the wheel, Joe napping soundly in the shotgun seat, and judging from the uncharacteristic silence from the bench seat behind them, Andy assumed the Terror Twins [aka Patrick and Pete] must be graciously sound asleep. That was a rarity and Andy figured he'd take advantage of the moment of zen to get lost in his thoughts. Besides, sleeping Twins mean no hijinks, which means no distractions, which means they'll make much better time arriving to their destination. Andy sighed contentedly, turned the CD player down to ensure the music didn't wake anyone, and continued his drive towards the Sunshine State.

Joe was dreaming contentedly but some odd sounds were starting to stir him back to the land of consciousness. At first, they didn't fully register...he was in that half state between the curtain of reality and the land of dreams. The soft rumbling of road noise was soothing but the slight bump and sway of the van pushed the curtain back to finalize his return to the land of the living. Joe cracked his eyes open and shifted his sitting position to get more comfortable. He glanced over at Andy in the driver's seat, who looked back at Joe from the corner of his eye and smiled. The guitarist smiled back, scratched his afro and closed his eyes again. He wasn't going back to sleep; he was just resting his eyes until his mind fully woke back up. He allowed his thoughts to drift while listening to the music that was quietly playing from the van speakers.

What should I wear tonight? I wonder if there's a Taco Bell near the hotel. Will there be time before the gig for a shower? Oh crap, I have to talk to mom about moving in with the guys when the tour ends. Shit, I should call her later. Mmm...Taco Bell.

His thoughts were broken by the distinct sounds of shuffling from the backseat followed by the sound of soft whining. 'That's Patrick', Joe thought. The whining started getting louder and more persistent and was follwed up by a couple of annoyed grunts. 'What the fuck is that weirdo up to back there?', Joe wondered. He kept his eyes closed and tried to just ignore the sounds his singer was making from the seat behind him. It was quiet again for a minute before a very sleepy and annoyed sounding Pete piped up.

"Dude, not near my face."

Okay, that's weird.

"Come ON, Pete. Rub it", Patrick whispered.

"Yeah fine, just keep it away from my face", breathed Pete, equally as quiet.

Silence momentarily returned to the van before it was broken by the sound of Patrick moaning.

"Ooo...oh hell yeah."

"Dude, no fair. Do mine...come on."

"Ugh fine...gimme."

When they started moaning in tandem shortly after, Joe's eyes shot open and he fixed a pointed look at Andy. He could see the drummer return his look from the corner of his eye and simply shrug as of to say, 'Dude, I have no idea what they're doing but I really don't think I wanna know.' Joe just sat there, eyes wide, while listening to the disturbing noises coming from the backseat. He wondered if he should turn around and investigate the cause of this disturbance. Suddenly, there was a crack sound and Pete yelped.

"Ouch! Fuck dude, you cracked it!"

"Sorry! Sorry!"

Joe's moment of deliberation quickly ended and he whipped around to face the occupants of the backseat. "Okay, what the everloving fuck are you doing back there?"

The Terror Twins froze as they both looked up to Joe wearing matching expressions of genuine confusion. 

"Oh my fucking god. You guys are so motherfucking weird!" Joe groaned in complete exasperation. 

"Dude, what are they doing?" Andy asked, curiosity finally getting the best of him.

Joe turned in his seat to face Andy and replied, "These asshats are giving each other fucking foot massages."

Andy couldn't help the laughter that erupted from him at that moment. "Oh my god...thank goodness! I swear I thought they were jerking each other off back there!"

"Dude, me too. For real...that sounded so wrong!" Joe replied, relief clear in his tone of voice.

"That's fucked up! Why would you even think we were doing something like that?" Patrick asked.

Joe turned to once again address the two in the backseat. "Really? You're actually asking that question? You guys were moaning and fucking grunting. What were we supposed to think was happening? You two are so gay with each other on a regular basis that it's simply an inevitable progression in your weird ass relationship."

"Hey!" Pete exclaimed. "I'm only gay above the belt!"

Joe quirked an eyebrow and snorted loudly. "Yeah, if the belt was on the fucking floor."

Patrick started howling with laughter. "HAAAA!! BURN!!"

Joe turned his attention to the dirty blonde singer. "You're one to fucking talk, dude. I've seen the chicks you go after. You like your girls like you like your coffee."

Patrick stopped laughing, completely confused by that comment. "Dude, I don't even like coffee."

"My point EXACTLY", Joe stated.

Now it was Pete's turn to start cracking up. "HAAAA!! OH MY FUCKING GOD!! I need some Neosporin for that burn!"

Joe just ruled his eyes and turned his attention back to Andy. "So, how much longer til we're in Jax?"

Andy, still wearing an amused look on his face, replied, "Should be about half an hour but we're gonna need to pull over at the next rest stop to get gas. The light just came on. If these two can manage to keep their shit together and behave we should be there in 45 minutes."

Translated: 45 minutes converted into Terror Twin Time probably equated to 2 hours.

***

Thankfully, The Twins did behave and it only took 1 hour and 27 minutes to make it to their hotel. Unthankfully, The Twins were now wide awake and full of Red Bull, Sour Patch Kids and restlessness. Though it exasperated Andy and Joe to have to put up with Pete and Patrick's antics, it was far easier to constantly babysit them than to allow them to have any of the driving responsibilities. Their combined attention span and threshold for boredom is about 15 minutes so allowing either of them to drive usually ended up in various detours and Very Bad Ideas. There was that one time in New Hampshire involving half of mall security and a dozen escaped mice...but it definitely could have been much worse.

Joe was driving the remaining trip to the Holiday Inn Jacksonville to allow Andy a much needed break from driving. Andy unfortunately would end up being stuck with the majority of the driving shifts. Joe just got his licence a month before the tour, and while he was a surprisingly accomplished driver, Andy was still a little aprehensive about letting him take long overnight shifts. And as for Pete and Patrick...well, they just couldn't be trusted, to be quite honest. Andy had officially forbidden either of them to drive after Pete’s last shift a week and a half ago. You see, the problem with one of The Twins driving is that the other HAD to ride shotgun. So, a week and a half ago Pete’s taking an overnight shift with Patrick dutifully manning the position of Second in Command. Joe and Andy, against better judgement, decided to take advantage of not driving and sleep away the next 3 hours until shift change. Well, 3 hours later Joe's phone alarm goes off to wake them for shift change but he noticed that the van was already stopped. Joe looked up and saw that the front seats were vacant. He sat up, peaked out the window and saw that they were pulled over onto a dirt road with nothing but pasture surrounding them. Panic quickly set in.

"Andy! Andy! Wake up...wake the fuck up!" Joe yelled while roughly shoving Andy's shoulders to rouse him. The drummer quickly bolted upright and looked around. He immediately knew The Twins did something...again.

"Fuck! I knew I shouldn't have let them drive. Dammit those motherfuckers!"

Joe had crawled into the driver's seat to make sure that the vehicle was functional and ensure they weren't stopped due to a breakdown. When he turned the key (which was just left in the ignition...what the fuck?) and the car started, he figured Pete and Patrick were probably in the immediate vecinity. "Come on, let's go see if they're nearby. If we can't find them in the next 10 minutes we'll just come back and wait."

Andy scrubbed his face in complete and utter frustration. "Yeah okay. What else can we do? Let's go."

It only took a couple of minutes to find them. Almost as soon as they climbed out of the van they could hear Patrick’s distinct voice ringing out in the night. Joe and Andy looked at each other; an expression mixed with confusion and relief. It was a little difficult to tell where the singing was coming from but soon figured it out and walked towards the sound. 

"Da fuck is that kid singing? It sounds like some fucking weird Celtic shit or something."

"It's Scandinavian," Andy replied knowingly.

"What?"

"I've heard this before somewhere. I can't remember where. I know it's Scandinavian, though."

When they came to the origin of Patrick’s voice, they saw the diminutive singer standing on the second beam of a wooden fence, hands cupped to the sides of his mouth, singing to a herd of cows who were all migrating quickly towards the kid. Pete was standing to his left watching in complete amazement. That's when Andy remembered what the song was.

"I can't fucking believe this shit," Andy said and stopped walking a few feet away from the Twins. "He's singing an ancient Scandinavian herding song. To the fucking cows."

They watched for another minute as about 30 cows came right up to the wall and just watched Patrick. It was actually pretty fucking amazing. 

When Patrick noticed Joe and Andy's presence he stopped singing and smiled down at his bandmates. The cows, in obvious dislike of the interruption, started mooing impatiently.

"Guys! Look at this shit! I'm Kulning and it really works!"

Pete was literally bouncing around Joe and Andy at this point. "This kid is fucking MAGICAL! He's my magical shield maiden!"

Andy watched The Twins bouncing and laughing and beaming and mooing at the cows. The anger and frustration from a few minutes ago subsided. These weirdos were difficult to stay mad at for long but as the unofficial designated parent of the group a slight admonishment was needed.

"Okay, so you two decided to pull over in the middle of nowhere at almost 4am to sing a herding song to cows? Fine. Neither of you are allowed to drive night shifts from now on. Let's get back to the van. I'm driving the rest of the way and we are not making any more stops."

Somehow, they were only an hour and a half late to the next venue.

***

"Alright assholes, we're here," Joe announced as he pulled into the parking lot of the hotel. He unbuckled his seat belt and turned to face The Twins in the backseat. He instantly regretted doing that.

"COME ON! Why do you guys have to be so fucking weird all the fucking time! I'm fucking fed up with you guys! Everytime I look at you, you're doing shit like THAT! I swear I'm so fucking ready to quit this band!" With that, Joe jumped out of the van and slammed the door.

Joe was genuinely pissed off (which was a rarity) and this made Andy panic a little. The drummer turned to look at what Pete and Patrick were up to now but was only met with the both of them looking confused and perfectly innocent. He exited the van and went to Joe, who was standing with his arms crossed tightly across his chest. The ginger vegan cocked an eyebrow in silent inquiry. Joe let out a highly exasperated sigh, uncrossed his arms and lowered his voice in resignation as he answered Andy's unspoken inquiry. 

"They were sniffing each other's feet."

And really...what could you say to that? Nothing. So the pair dropped the matter and started walking towards the hotel lobby to start the check in process. They entered through the double automatic doors and greeted cheerfully by the front desk clerk.

"Hello gentlemen and welcome to the Holiday Inn Jacksonville. Are you ready to check in?" The attendant (Brian, according to his nametag) asked.

"Yes, we have two standard rooms booked under the name Andrew Hurley."

Brian turned his gaze down to his computer monitor and started typing the information provided. After a moment his expression took on a tinge of confusion. "Would you kindly verify the spelling of the last name, please?"

"No problem. It's Hurley. H-U-R-L-E-Y."

Brian smiled apologetically and resumed his computer search. The confused expression returned to his face. "I'm really sorry, sir, but it appears there is no reservation under that name. I attempted a few alternate spellings but there is no record of a booking."

Andy was slightly frustrated but hey, accidents happen. "Can we just go ahead and book two rooms anyway?"

"Sure, let me check and see what we have available for tonight."

Andy hoped that the new rooms wouldn't cost too much more than what they originally booked but at this point he wasn't going to bitch over a price difference. He and Joe both needed a night away from a cramped van...and from a night with The Twins.

"Hmm..." Brian's voice cut through Andy's reverie. "Well, it appears all of the standard rooms are booked. However, I can upgrade you to one of our double suites for no additional charge." Brian pulled out a brochure depicting the blueprint of the double suite layout. "It's technically one room but the front area has a king size bed and the other sleeping area is off to the side of the bathroom and has two double beds."

Andy was not thrilled with the idea of having to share a room with Pete and Patrick but there really wasn't a choice at this point.

"Yeah, that's fine. We'll take it." Andy pulled out his ID and credit card to complete reservation when, lo and behold, The Twins entered the lobby. Brian looked up towards the entrance, a professional smile fixed on his face ready to greet the new guests. When he saw Pete and Patrick, his profession expression quickly fell. Joe and Andy looked over to see Patrick riding piggy back on Pete. Both were barefoot, Patrick in a shirt and boxers while Pete was wearing only a pair of boxer briefs.

'Well,' Joe thought. 'So much for them putting pants on.'

Andy apologized to Brian, grabbed the room cards and quickly ushered everyone out to grab their bags and settle into their room.

***

Their first gig in Florida went amazingly. The majority of the crowd may have been there to see Analysis, but received Fall Out Boy's performance with almost as much enthusiam. After both the bands finished tearing down their gear to prepare to load their vehicles, they all chatted with one another and the large crowd of fans that stuck around after the gig. It was Joe and Andy's turn to load the van but since the venue didn't close for another hour, decided to join the group at the bar for a couple of drinks and some conversation. 

Joe approached the bar and got the bartender's attention. "Hey man, lemme get a draft IPA."

"Sure dude. Just need to see your ID first."

Joe was underage but was usually able to get some beers after a gig since he looked older than his 19 years. "Uh...nah dude I didn't bring my ID. I'm with the band, though."

The bartender smiled but was not swayed. "Sorry man. We gotta check all IDs, even the bands. Had some trouble last year with the previous staff serving minors and almost lost our license. We gotta check everyone now no matter what."

Joe was visibly disappointed but completely understood. It was all good...he had to load the van and had the first driving shift the next morning. "That's cool, bro. Thanks anyways."

Joe sat on the barstool for a moment when Patrick came up and stood next to him getting the same bartender's attention. 

"Sup bruh. Lemme get a whiskey, neat?"

The bartender eyeballed Patrick with a clearly amused look on his face. "Yeah sure, kid. You got ID?" The baby faced singer smirked, produced a driver's license from his back pocket and smugly handed it to the man. The bartender studied it, looked at Patrick, looked back to the ID, shrugged at handed back the card. "Okay, one whiskey, neat. Be right back."

Patrick hopped up onto the barstool next to Joe grinning widely. "Dude, is that a fake ID?" Joe whispered incredulously. Patrick nodded happily and mimed a shhhh gesture.

"I got it right before we started the band. It was the only way to get into the all-ages gigs. But uh...it comes in handy for other reasons....hehehehe."

"Whatever. I gotta load the van and drive tomorrow morning, anyways."

"Don't worry, man. The guys in Analysis are heading over to a house party their fans are throwing. You can get some drinks there. Come on, let's go hang out and we can head over there when they leave."

Patrick grabbed his drink and the pair went over to where the large group was gathered; Pete's unmistakable laugh ringing loudly through the mass of chatter. Once the bassist caught sight that Patrick had returned to his side, he visibly turned up even more.

"TRICKYDOLL! Where the fuck did you go?" Pete yelled as he flung himself to his Twin's side. Joe, already annoyed that he wasn't able to order a drink combined with being dead tired from a very long day, snapped at Pete.

"Dude, the kid just left your side for a fucking second. You need to unclench."

The group giggled but Pete was not having it. He draped his arm around Patrick and just started.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Pete began. "This is Pete Wentz with channel 7 local news where I have senior field correspondent Patrick Stump on the scene of a huge disturbance. Patrick, can you tell us what's going on?"

Patrick caught onto the the spiel right away. "Thanks Pete. Yes, as you can see behind me I am standing in front of a HUGE gathering of young men lined up around the entire city block. I'm not quite sure what they have lined up for but whatever it is, it obviously has these guys really excited. Once we have more information we'll be updating you all at channel 7. Back to you, Pete."

"Thank you Patrick. Now, once again, where is the location of this gathering?"

"We'll Pete, this huge line seems to be originating from JOE TROHMAN'S MAMA'S HOUSE!"

This caused an entire chorus of laughter to erupt, setting Joe off. "Fuck you guys! I'm gonna finish loading the van and go to the hotel. Find your own ride back."

***

The following morning Joe woke up to the sound of his phone alarm going off. It was only 10am but check out was at 11am and he needed to make sure everyone packed up and left on time. He woke Andy up and headed to the bathroom that separated their room from The Twins' sleeping area in the front. Sleepily rubbing his head and yawning loudly, Joe entered the bathroom and saw his suitcase sitting inside the bathtub. He walked closer to investigate and found it was open and completely empty.

"Oh come on. It's WAY too early for this shit," he muttered to himself as he exited the restroom to confront Pete and Patrick. He stopped short of a very loud early morning rant when he saw the state of their room. Pillows and sheets where everywhere and there were 5 randoms passed out in various spaces on the floor. He looked by the front door and saw someone dressed in a head-to-toe Cookie Monster costume propped up in the corner with some guy passed out face down in their lap clutching a half empty bottle of Jack Daniel's. While Joe looked around the room, Andy appeared behind him.

"Holy fuck. What the hell happened in here?" The drummer went over to the king sized bed and pulled back the comforter that was covering a Pete and Patrick sized lump revealing The Twins sleeping soundly, wound tightly around one another. 

"Wake up, you two. We gotta check out in an hour. Get these people OUT of here and get your shit packed." Andy was not playing today.

The Twins opened their eyes and smiled up at Andy. Pete yawned and addressed his drummer. "Hey buddy! Hey, how do hot dogs survive in the wild if they have no eyes?"

Before Andy could say another word, Joe's empty suitcase flew past his head landing on the bed. "Okay you fuckers. Where are ALL OF MY CLOTHES??"

Patrick covered his mouth and answered while giggling. "Freezer."

Rather than question them, Joe went to the mini fridge and opened the door. What he found was every article of clothing, completely wet, stuffed inside. Andy shook his head in disappointment while Joe started gathering his cold, wet clothing while The Twins watched, still giggling. 

"Shut the fuck up, get up, pack your shit and let's go. And if you guys ever steal my clothes again I'm setting all your shit on fire while summoning Satan back to Earth to take you two back to hell where you belong."

Good news: they only had a week left of the tour.

Bad news: they were all moving in together afterwards.

Joe and Andy had no clue how they were gonna survive.


End file.
